From Arrowhead, To Fishstick
by Opal21
Summary: A series dedicated to an archer and an Atlantean. Newest chapter up: "...people ask how we first met. Not the most romantic story, lemme tell you."
1. Heaven

**From Arrowhead, To Fishstick**

1. Heaven :introspection:

In the intensive care unit, having come within inches of Death's enigmatic grasp, Garth realized: he had never agreed with the Atlantean concept of heaven.

It seemed to be a widespread idea, shared between the communities of undersea-dwellers and even understood by more highly developed forms of marine life (like the dolphins who, he remembers bitterly, had been the first to speak to the banished little boy.) All the great swimmers of the ocean believed in it.

If an underwater resident lived with dignity and kindness, it was said that they would pass on to the deepest waters of the bluest seas of Neptune. These dear souls would leisure in the eternal currents; revel in the gentle tides; bask in the coral beds and fields of seaweed.

But Garth had been in the deepest part of the ocean—surely the darkest, coldest place on Earth. In that desolate period of his life, the Atlantean considered _his_ idea of heaven.

The surface.

He had glimpsed it occasionally: bright, gleaming, warm. Any light that came to Atlantis first filtered down from the land and the sky. Those were the heavens above, at least as Garth understood the world.

Unfortunately, Garth's dream of this idyllic place was riddled with danger. Life on the surface brought with it the constant risk of dehydration. At any moment, he might be singled out once again for his unusual appearance. Most troubling, Garth knew that the values of land-dwellers varied extremely from his own—they _destroyed _marine life, regardless of its beauty.

Despite it all, Garth decided that his dream was worth it. Living the amazing life of a young super hero was better than he had ever imagined, filled as it was with friends, adventure, and a sense of contentment.

_Well_, he thought with a feeble chuckle, _a sense of near-contentment_.

For Garth had acquired a new idea of heaven. Leaning over him at the moment, actually.

Speedy gazed down at Garth, and the swimmer could see obvious concern in his friend's eyes. The redhead was murmuring something. Too bad Garth was still rather lightheaded; otherwise he might have been able to hear Speedy's words (which with any luck were desperate, glorious declarations of affection).

… _But who am I kidding?_ Garth also realized in that moment: Speedy was nearly as dangerous a concept of heaven as the surface had been. Instead of dehydration, there were even more terrifying risks that might come of a relationship with the archer. Garth could jeopardize his teammates, or innocent lives; he might experience even more misplaced hate due to yet another matter he had no control over…

He might face Speedy's rejection.

"Aqualad?"

The Atlantean blinked rapidly, brought back to awareness by someone urgently shaking his shoulders.

"Don't black out, come on." The archer was looking closely at Garth, searching the Atlantean's face for signs of duress.

Garth opened his mouth to give a quiet reassurance, but stopped short. Speedy's stare was so _intense_. And there was something in his gaze, a little spark that gave the swimmer hope. It was enough to make him achieve one last epiphany before lapsing back in unconsciousness.

Garth would reach his idea of heaven, or die trying.

* * *

Hi! I just wanted to thank readers for, well, reading! Keep spreading the Spaqua love, perhaps though a review or some wonderful fanfiction!

So... I edited this so that Garth was always called Garth in narration, but other than that their aliases were used; I've got this idea in my head that the two don't learn each other's real names until the beginning of their relationship, so I'm trying to keep that consistent. Sorry if that comes off a tad odd.

Remember, fish are friends-_or more~! _

Opal~


	2. Seeking Solace

**From Arrowhead, To Fishstick**

2. Seeking Solace :friendship/pre-relationship:

For three weeks, Titans East had been tracking a drug lord through Steel City. Tracking only, as any attempts to apprehend the criminal resulted in a fruitless chase through dark alleys, in which the dealer and his clients always managed to vanish.

Tonight was just like the other five pursuits, ending when Bumblebee slowed to a stop in front of a stark brick wall. Her angry, narrowed gaze simply confirmed a sixth failure.

Más and Menos arrived shortly after, their speed helping them navigate the obstacles that Bumblebee had avoided. Still, the speedsters barely managed a melancholy trudging at this point, overcome with disappointment in their own skills.

Smoothing his path with artificial waves, Aqualad stepped off of a crest just as it dissipated across the gritty asphalt of the alley. He was greeted by the sight of Bumblebee and the twins huddled together sadly, and wasted no time joining them in the corner of the closed-in area. Repeat letdowns took their toll, even on the levelheaded Atlantean.

Last to arrive, panting and stumbling, Speedy took one look at his teammates and tensed. His knuckles clenched around his bow, while his other hand squeezed into a shaking fist.

"Not again…" He curled in on himself; rocked back on his heels; dropped his bow; clutched at his head. Finally, the archer exploded outward: a rage-fueled kick sent a nearby garbage can blasting into the far-off wall of the alley.

Speedy stood glaring at the dead-end, when Bumblebee spoke up, "Alright, Shafty. Chill."

"'Chill?' '_Chill?_' I can't '_chill_,' Bee, not while this freak is still on the loose!" He slammed his fist into the lid of another trashcan, creating a sharp dent.

Menos winced at the resulting clanging sound, prompting Bumblebee to use her best "mediator" tone of voice. "Fair enough, we'll keep our guard up. But you won't get anywhere bustin' up bins."

Speedy turned his back on the team, shoulders tensing. "If it weren't for your crappy directions, we would've caught them by now."

"_What?_" Bumblebee rose from her sitting position. "Now hold on, we'll catch those scumbags as soon as —"

"Is that what you think of them?" Speedy spat, whipping back around. "Those addicts are all scumbags? So what, Bee, once we catch them we just ship 'em off to the big house and be done with it?"

Bumblebee stepped back slightly, confused by the shift in Speedy's tone. "No, that's not what I was talking abou—"

The archer held up a hand to cut Bumblebee off. "Save it. I don't wanna hear this anymore." Picking up his bow, Speedy raced away into another winding alley.

"Sometimes, I just don't know how to deal with that kid," Bumblebee breathed, collapsing into a fetal position next to the twins. The siblings, jarred as they were by the intense fight, did their best to embrace Bumblebee in a comforting gesture.

Aqualad glanced at his team leader, then at the alley from which the sound of Speedy's racing footsteps still echoed. "Bee, I'm going to go talk to him. Take care of her, Más and Menos." He rose and started toward the murky exit where his teammate had disappeared.

"Hold on a sec, Aqualad. Sometimes Speedy just needs to let off a little steam..."

Aqualad glanced back at his leader, but black hair fell in front of his eyes, obscuring his expression. "Something's bothering him, Bee. He's been acting so agitated lately."

Bumblebee shrugged, holding the twins tightly. "That doesn't mean he has to mouth off all the time—"

While speaking, she watched Aqualad brush the strands over his shoulder, and took in the anxious look on her second-in-command's face.

"Wow. You're seriously hung up on this. Okay, okay, see if you can knock some sense into that ginger head of his."

As Aqualad jogged off, the leader hummed in contemplation.

"Speedy?" Aqualad rounded a corner, entering a shadowy passage. "Speedy?" he called nervously. A few more steps brought the swimmer to another dead-end, and he glanced around in confusion. He was positive that the archer hadn't doubled back. "Where are you?"

That was when he noticed a rusted ladder, previously shrouded in a dark portion of the alley. Rung by rung, the Atlantean pulled himself up to the roof of the dingy building.

Aqualad sagged in relief when he caught sight of Speedy's red hair, still managing to stick out even in the dim light of the lower city. He neared the edge of the roof where the archer had chosen to seat himself.

"Speedy."

As his teammate whirled around to face him, Aqualad took in the surprised expression, the widened eyelets of Speedy's mask. When had he gotten so used to reading his friend's moods?

After a beat, the archer returned to staring off across the run-down roofs. "What do you want?"

"Just to talk to you. I've never seen you lash out like that before." Speedy's silence prompted him to continue, "If there's something you want to discuss, it's alright; you can trust me."

This caught the redhead's attention, and he stared hard at the Atlantean. Aqualad knew he was keeping his expression deliberately blank now.

"What do you think of those people doing drugs?"

The swimmer's eyebrows furrowed at the question. "I never saw anything like that in the ocean. And while I think they're making a serious mistake..." Speedy's lips thinned into a grim line, and Aqualad knew he was on thin ice. "... they need help. They deserve that from us."

Aqualad observed the white eyelets as they stretched minutely.

"You... You want to help them? Even though they've turned to something so dirty?" The archer's tone was shaky, and Aqualad's frown deepened.

"It's never too late to assist someone," the Atlantean replied gently, "especially those most desperate for solace."

Speedy's mouth opened slightly. He was shocked. Then, slowly, he moved from his perch on the roof's edge to stand opposite Aqualad. The archer kept his head down when he spoke.

"What if I told you that I used to do drugs?"

Aqualad was struck dumb. Suddenly, the hostile actions of the past weeks became clear. "You don't use them now, do you? Because, if you need help, we're ready to—" The Atlantean voiced the first thoughts that came to mind, his pitch higher than normal.

"No, no, no! Look," Speedy held his hands up defensively as he cut Aqualad off. The two waited for the howling sound of a siren to die out. Then, Speedy paced away from Aqualad, keeping his eyes downcast. "Before I came to the titans," he spoke in a subdued tone, requiring the swimmer to follow a few feet behind him, "I was solo for a while. My mentor had kicked me out. You know, Green Arrow? Yeah, apparently the old prick didn't quite approve of me being a snowbird." There was a confused noise from Aqualad. "Come on, a snowbird—a junkie. I was addicted to heroin.

"I got over the stuff—his gal, Black Canary, gave me a place to crash. But even after that, we couldn't work together." The archer stopped when he reached a chimney, turning to Aqualad. Something in Speedy's expression made his friend's heart ache.

"You should've seen the way he looked at me, Aqualad. I disgusted him. I shamed him in front of the others." Speedy pounded his fist into the nearby chimney, choking out, "I was just some _vile_ piece of—"

"Speedy!" Aqualad rushed forward, covering his friend's hand with his own. "Stop it. You're saying all that like you believe it!"

He received no reaction, just Speedy's averted gaze.

"Listen to me. I'm not saying you were right, turning to heroin, but Green Arrow was definitely wrong to abandon you like that."

"Hey, I got through it, didn't I?" Speedy replied with an empty laugh. "And you heard Bee, the people we chase are just 'scumbags!'"

"You know that's not what she meant." Aqualad gazed evenly at the archer. "All the addicts will enter rehabilitation, and get the assistance they need. The same help you deserved in the first place."

Speedy frowned at Aqualad. He wrenched his arm away, muttering, "Just let me go."

"No!" The swimmer's hand shot out, grabbing the redhead's twitching fist. "You need to know that no matter what, Speedy, the team is here for you!"

"The last time I thought someone was _here for me_, he kicked me to the curb!" he yelled, rounding on his teammate. Then, seeing something in Aqualad's eyes, the redhead slumped. Speedy sank to his knees, tugging Aqualad down with him. "It's not that hard to figure out why, either. Maybe I should have stayed solo."

"Speedy," the Atlantean spoke steadily, "you're too brave, and fierce, and loyal for us to leave you."

The redhead stayed quiet, continuing to evade eye contact.

"You still don't believe me, do you?" Carefully, tenderly, Aqualad rested his forehead against Speedy's, ignoring his rising blush, and the catch in his friend's breath, and the smell of Speedy's hair—everything except for the telltale movements of the archer's mask. "I'm here now, and I always will be."

Speedy locked onto Aqualad's gaze, physically unable to look away. He was speechless.

The Atlantean sighed and took the time to finish, "Bee, Más, and Menos would tell you the same. Please remember that."

For just a few heartbeats, the two sat there together: hand-in-hand, heads tilted forward, breathing softly.

At last, Aqualad leaned back, taking in Speedy's growing smile.

"Thanks, Aqualad. I really needed to hear that…"

The Atlantean grinned slightly, wondering if that was all Speedy planned to share after his own heartfelt performance.

"You know what?" The archer stood, once again pulling his teammate with him. "Let's get back to our team."

* * *

Hello again, awesome readers! This piece isn't exactly a drabble, I suppose. Still, I figure this series will simply contain all the writing inspired by my list of 100 prompts.

There were so many ways I wanted to end this one, but... I feel like this choice met the balance I was going for. Of course, I'm not sure if you guys agree. (Would a make-out be taking things too far? XD That's what I assumed.)

Thank you so much for reading, and share the SpeedyAqua love with some of your own inspiration!

Opal~


	3. Breathe Again

**3. Breathe Again **:hurt/comfort?:

"Aqualad!" I'm grinding my teeth. "Just breathe again, dang it!"

The mission had gone wrong. Terribly wrong, right when the thief threw a grenade under a parked car. The entire garage went up flames. Worst of all, the fumes overwhelmed Aqualad's whacked-out respiratory system.

"If you fucking give out on me, Fishboy, I swear…" I hunch over his prone form, watching Aqualad's hair fan out in the shallow seawater.

Bumblebee was back at the scene, speaking with police and firemen, while the twins had taken off after the criminal. I didn't bother to check with Bumblebee before rushing Aqualad to the nearest beach. I knew hospital care wouldn't help; Atlantean anatomy is too freaky for conventional medical aid to help. Only saltwater would do.

"Wake up, damn it!" I pound a fist into the sand. Usually, people can't tell when I'm crying because the cloth of my mask absorbs tears, but… Dang, apparently I turn on the waterworks for Waterboy, cause the thing is so soaked that a tear slips out.

The run to the shore might have been the crappiest thing I've ever experienced. I crossed two intersections and three bike paths while paying no freaking heed to incoming traffic. It's just that, every time I glanced down at Aqualad's blank expression, it felt like pins were stabbing my spine.

And he's still out cold. Where's that stupid, confident grin he wears after winning a video game, or the righteous-fury look he gets when someone dares mention seafood? "Damn it, Fishstick…" There goes another string of tears, but I can't help it. His face looks so ghostly, catching the moonlight, and there are these wavering shadows over his eyes.

Why was I so terrified, the moment I saw Aqualad crumple against the wall? The fear was so strong, so quick. It was alarming, really, how fast every other thought flew out of my mind.

I might be seriously confused about _why_ I'm so scared, but the answer doesn't matter if Aqualad doesn't start breathing soon. The stupid gillhead isn't moving now. He's just laying here. "God damn it…" And a few more tears fell. Great.

Wait.

The tears didn't fall. No, really, my tears are floating. In front of my face. It's distracting, and beautiful—I mean, really cool, to watch them line up right in front of my nose. Am I seeing things? I reach one hand out to poke at one of the droplets, but the entire line shifts away.

"What the…" I keep my arm really still, and the tears start spinning in a circle around my hand. It hits me, all of the sudden: the only one who could move water like that was—

"Aqualad!" The fishboy is grinning that stupid, perfect grin at me, even if his eyes look a little worse for wear. Seems he's got enough energy to move his fingers and keep the tears roving around my arm. Then he snaps his wrist. The drops splatter onto my face, and I flinch back, startled by the tiny impacts.

I wipe the wetness from my face, and by the time I open my eyes again it seems like everything's gotten brighter. That jerk is leaning up on his elbows, torso out of the water, staring.

"What?" I must be a sight, but it's his freakin' fault! All scraped up and tear-streaked…

He's quiet, still just studying my face. Then, "Were those really your tears? For me?"

My mouth opens slightly, but I don't know what to say. I'm angry right now, yet unbelievably relieved, and tired, and confused—so yeah, I was crying, but can I even explain why?

"Just shut up," I manage. Instead of really addressing his question, I look him over to reassure myself. What I see jars my nerves. He's trembling, darn it, probably straining himself by speaking.

Leaning forward, I wrap my arms around his shoulders, a bit tighter than what's best for his fragile state. But it's not like he's demonstrated a great sense of self-preservation or anything tonight. "You idiot," I say, because it's true. "Thank god you're alright."

* * *

Hey guys! Here's the latest drabble... Hope you enjoyed it! The image of Aqualad making tears dance around wouldn't leave my head, and thus we end up with such a story.

You might have seen that I took down the original first chapter. I just thought those pieces needed a bit of work, as far as drabbles go.

Anyway, share the SpAqua love, and have an awesome day!

Opal~


	4. Breaking the Rules

50. Breaking the Rules :AU/humor:

"Okay," Speedy muttered, "now things are just getting weird."

He had to be dreaming. That was the only thing that would explain his fancy, regal clothing and the straight-out-of-a-fairytale forest through which he was walking.

"Wait a minute, walking? If I'm dressed so fancy I should have a horse!"

"¿Solamente necesita un caballo, señor?" Speedy whipped around, eyes landing on two stout ponies. "¡Dos sería más rápidos!"

_The ponies can talk, and they sound like Más and Menos. Figures._ "Yeah, listen guys, I don't know where I'm going but I need to get there faster."

"You got that right, Arty."

_Why do surprising things always enter behind me? _The archer thought, twirling around to see the newcomer.

The witch emerged from behind a tree, dressed in yellow and black. "It's time to hightail it to the lake, you hear?"

"Bee? What's with the sorceress getup?"

"I don't know what getup you're talking about, but you better hurry up if you want to catch the Lad of the Lake." She snapped her fingers, and Speedy found himself seated on one of the ponies. "And call me Merlyn, there's no Bee here."

"Merlyn? Woah, Bee, you've gotta explain what 'Lad of the Lake' you're talking abou—"

"Just chill, Arty, and follow the story. You'll be there before you can say—"

"¡MÁS Y MENOS, SÍ PODEMOS!"

And like that, Speedy was at the edge of a pristine lake. The ponies stomped the ground in anticipation.

"Er… Hello?"

Nothing happened. The archer glared at the calm surface of the lake, and then turned to stalk away.

"A-hem."

_WHY ARE THEY ALWAYS BEHIND ME?! _ Speedy wanted to yell. Instead, he pivoted to see…

Woah. Talk about Baywatch.

Aqualad, or at least his lookalike, rose slowly out of the lake. He looked good in this fantasy-type outfit: practically nothing, save some leafy vines winding around his legs. …Too bad Aqualad would never wear something like that.

Speedy finally regained the ability to speak when the swimmer paused a few feet away, standing in the lake's shallows. "Who are you, and what have you done with Aqualad?"

The other only gave him an amused smile. "I am the Lad of the Lake, and have no knowledge of the friend you mention. Regardless, we must continue the story."

"Heyheyhey, hold up," Speedy begged when it appeared that the Lad was returning to the murky depths. With a lopsided grin, he drawled, "You always dress that conservative?"

"Why I—!" The swimmer looked positively scandalized, which suited the archer just fine. He was digging that blush. "I am not here to fulfill the role of some trollop, Arthur. _Just stick to the story._"

_Arthur? _Speedy ignored the name, shooting back, "I can think of some other things I'd like to stick to."

That did the trick. Before he knew it, Speedy was backing up with the Lad's nose in his face.

"Now you get this straight, I don't get paid to wait around in ponds and hand out weaponry, alright?" At this point the pair had stumbled into the ponies, who parted in fear and scampered off. "No, I do my part and follow the rules—"

"But don't you think," Speedy interjected as he held his hands up in a placatory manner, "that rules should sometimes be broken?"


	5. Dark

4. Dark :humor/friendship/pre-slash:

Aqualad could only imagine why the backup generators hadn't kicked in yet. As it was, he was left in complete darkness; the lights had shut off while he strolled through one of the interior, windowless hallways.

"Ffffffu—! Ow, owowowow. Stupid dumbbell. Stupid power outage. Stupid…"

Aqualad's eyebrows rose at the fluid rant. The disembodied voice of his marksman teammate, Speedy, floated from the general direction of the training room a few doors down.

"Roy?" The Atlantean slowly paced forward, feeling his way along the right-hand wall until he reached an open doorway. "Do you need help?"

After grumbling something too low for Aqualad to make out, Speedy replied with a clipped, "I'm fine." Aqualad heard a series of clanking, tumbling sounds from the depths of the training room before his teammate spoke up again. "Er… Maybe I could use a hand."

Smiling lightly at his friend's comical display of pride, Aqualad started to edge into the room slowly, wary of stray weights or other equipment lying around. The Atlantean paused after a few moments, unsure. "Where are you exactly?"

"Head this way, Fishstick." The quip came from just a few feet away. "'Follow the sound of my voice,' isn't that the usual cheesy line?"

Aqualad only huffed amiably, used to Speedy's unflattering nicknames and sarcasm. "Okay, you were in this spot a moment ago. I thought you weren't moving?"

"I wasn't, but now it sounds like you're just a step to my left. Here, lemme try to—"

And with that, a clattering crash of falling metal echoed through the room, followed by the sound of a body, presumably Speedy's, thumping onto the floor.

"Roy?" Aqualad's voice sounded minutely higher.

"… Stupid power outage…"

The Atlantean's shoulders relaxed, despite the fact that he didn't notice them tensing in the first place. Now he knew he was beside the archer. "Take my hand and I'll help you up."

"Okay, okay…" Silence for a moment. "Fishstick, where's your hand?"

"Right here, I'm waving it around—"

"Oh! Hey, I think I've got it—"

"Good. Now just allow me to—"

"Great, let's get out of he—"

"Wait—stop—what are you—"

A third crash resonated with eerie finality.

Aqualad sat, stunned, still gripping his teammate's hand in his own. With the other, he tried to gauge the state of their current surroundings. "Unless I'm mistaken…" Aqualad slumped, disheartened by the veritable wall of exercise equipment now piled around the pair, "we're virtually trapped until we can see enough to maneuver our way out of here."

"Huh." Speedy didn't sound too upset. In fact, he squeezed his teammate's hand while continuing in a nonchalant manner, "Alright, Fishstick, you'll just have to provide some entertainment in exchange for getting us stuck."

"You're saying this is my fault?" Aqualad leaned away in what he supposed was a dramatic fashion. He wasn't particularly offended, in actuality, but his friend's comic nature was infectious.

"Yeah. C'mon, tell me a story or somethin'."

Aqualad raised an eyebrow skeptically, despite the fact that the movement would go unseen. "About what?"

"I dunno." The Atlantean felt Speedy's hand shift slightly, probably due to an offhand shrug. "Tell me about Atlantis."

That made Aqualad's gaze snap toward Speedy, in spite of the uselessness of any attempt to stare hard at his teammate. Aqualad supposed the emotion that had him rattled was simply surprise; in general, the two elder boys of Titans East didn't openly discuss their past. The fact that Speedy seemed somewhat curious was… curious.

Still, when Aqualad considered the request, he couldn't spot a problem with it. He trusted Speedy. His teammate wouldn't push too hard, or pry too much, if it made Aqualad uncomfortable.

So after another slight squeeze of his fingers, Aqualad began, "I can't actually remember that much about Atlantis…"

The two stayed seated in the darkness for another hour, never letting go of each other's hands.


	6. Love

2. Love :fluff?:

"In Atlantis, the word for 'love' works a bit differently than here on the surface. Depending on how you intone that word (which I won't even say here because surface-dweller anatomy usually doesn't allow for the guttural enunciation necessary), its meaning… changes. Evolves.

"There's the first level, a primal instinct that connects family members. Unfortunately, I was too young when my mother and father departed to experience any notion of this feeling other than a faint, yet very dear, trace.

"The next 'love' is between friends, those who create family from nothing. Titans East, they embody this sense of love for me. They're the siblings I never had—right down to the way Bee always watches out for us even though she puts on a tough-love act, or the way Más and Menos can use my sheets for fort-building without asking, _and_ get away with it.

"Finally, the last meaning of the word "love," as you surface-dwellers usually define the term, is that connection between two individuals who feel strong emotions of affection and understa—"

"Hey, Garth, who ya talkin' to?"

"Wha—Roy, I thought you were still practicing with the mobile targets…"

"Got tired of it. Only so many ways to hit a bulls-eye while Más and Menos use it to play catch…"

"You're joking."

"Does it matter? Anyway, you didn't say who you were talkin' to. Unless you finally went nuts without me here to keep ya company?"

"… Hardly. I was replying to a question from the local marine life institute through their video feed. It appears they have a division entirely dedicated to Atlantis and Atlantean linguistics."

"Izzat so? I hope you're telling them all the useful phrases: 'hello,' 'nice to meet you,' 'let's fu—'"

"No, Roy, we're discussing the etymology of… of, uh…"

"Of what, Fishstick?"

"Of… the, uh, word I taught you last night…"


	7. Introduction

**1. Introduction :humor:**

We're still not exactly sure what to say when people ask how we first met. Not the most romantic story, lemme tell you.

As it is, I'm still kind of confused when I think of that first battle against Garth—how I could have possibly _not_ noticed him. His eyes, his legs, his hair, his smile… Seriously, I was so busy trying to get a shot on him that I practically put a hole through the hottest guy I'd ever meet. (And then date.)

Crazy as it was, I wouldn't have things any other way. The Master's Tournament just made for one hell of an introduction.


End file.
